Enquiring Minds
by htbthomas
Summary: Movieverse. Sequel to It Has Always Been You. Post SM2. Peter is working up the courage to propose, but his plans are put on hold when someone tries to make his private life public. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: Something to Worry About

_Summary: Movieverse. Set a few months after "It Has Always Been You." Post SM2. Peter is trying to work up the courage to propose, but his plans are put on hold when someone tries to make his private life public._

**A/N: I thought it would take me a lot longer to think of a sequel, but I guess you never know. This is inspired somewhat by an episode from the fourth season of Lois and Clark the TV series. However, I am trying to solve it differently and give it a Spider-Man spin.**

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Chapter 1: Something to Worry About

Mary Jane Watson woke slowly, feeling the early morning sun on her face. She had slept pretty well, only waking briefly when Peter left in the middle of the night. He tried not to wake her, bless him. But each time his warm, strong body uncurled from hers, she couldn't help but notice it. And miss him until he returned.

She rolled from her side to her back, starting to stretch her arms and toes. She then turned toward Peter's side of the bed. She had a morning ritual. She would kiss his pillow and pray a little prayer that he was safe.

This morning, however, she found not just a pillow, but Peter. He was propped on one elbow, gazing at her lovingly, enjoying the sight of watching her sleep. She nearly bolted straight up. "Peter! How long have you been home?"

"Only about an hour. You looked so beautiful, lying there as the sun rose... I'm sorry I startled you," he finished sheepishly.

She yawned. "It's okay. I usually feel it when you return to bed. You were sneaky this time." She poked him in the ribs.

His bare torso recoiled, and he laughed. "Hey! Watch it!" He squirmed away to avoid being tickled. Mary Jane crawled across the bed to catch him, but he deftly slid out from under the covers, and danced away out of reach.

"I'll get you yet, Spider-Man," she said, adding a villainous laugh.

"I'll go make us some coffee. You can stay here and plot your revenge." He grabbed a T-shirt and boxers off the floor by the bed, where they had been discarded the night before. He blew her a kiss, and went out of the room.

"Bet on it!" she called after him. She enjoyed the mornings when he was home. It would be nice if they happened more often, but she had resigned herself to waking alone. He always returned to her, and that was what mattered.

She took her robe from the bedside chair, and walked to the bathroom. She reached past the shower curtain to turn on the water. As she was waiting for the water to heat up, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. _I look tired - I will definitely need that coffee._ She had stayed up waiting for Peter the night before. When he returned past midnight, they hadn't been in the mood for much more than cuddling.

She stepped into the shower, and started to wash her hair. _Maybe I should have just gone to bed. I need to have energy for tonight._ Tonight was the opening of her new play. She had finally landed a part in a Broadway show. Not a big part, but still, one of the main supporting roles. The director had seen her work in _The Importance of Being Earnest_, and decided to give her a shot. _I had better wow those reviewers in the audience, or this might be my first and last shot at the big time._

While she was rinsing her hair, the curtain opened. Peter stuck his head in. "The coffee's ready when you are," he said cheerily. Rubbing the water out of her eyes, she saw his face. "Thanks."

He didn't immediately leave, but instead, ran a lingering gaze over her body.

She flushed. Even though they had been together for three months, she still felt a thrill every time he gazed upon her. "Care to join me?" she purred.

His grin was the only answer she needed.

---

Peter stood on the balcony of their apartment. He looked out over the city, alert for any trouble. MJ had decided to take a short nap so that she would be fresh for the opening that evening.

Today was Friday. During summer session, classes only met from Monday to Thursday, so he didn't need to rush to school. He didn't need to meet any students for science tutoring, either, which was almost the only income he was scraping together these days. A few other newspapers had been interested in his Spider-Man pictures, but none with Jameson's regularity.

He thought of the jewelry box hidden away in a corner behind a stack of science textbooks. _I promised Aunt May I would propose to Mary Jane soon, but if I can't even support myself..._ He let out a frustrated sigh. Mary Jane never let on that it bothered her that she paid most of the bills. She waved him off whenever he protested about it. _You have more important things to worry about, Tiger. Let me worry about this, _she would say.

In any case, he had wanted to save a little money, or at least be contributing more equally to the bills, before he popped the question. But their lives were already uncertain enough with his dangerous lifestyle. He wanted to be sure she knew that his commitment to her was more than certain.

He had been arguing with himself like this since the day May had given him his parents' wedding bands. He loved her, but couldn't support her. Yet she was becoming so successful in her own right - did she need supporting? It was the 21st-century, after all. He could focus on saving people and getting his degree. But something still didn't sit right. He had to admit he was a little old-fashioned. He didn't want to feel as if he were sponging off her.

He shook his head. Just like every day, no easy answers were coming to him. In the distance, he heard a security alarm go off. Before he headed for the disturbance, he looked in every direction. His spider-sense had always warned him if someone was watching. He had been very careful in his comings and goings, especially since MJ would be in danger if anyone noticed Spider-Man entering or exiting this place.

Everything seemed fine. He quickly changed clothing. _Break a leg, MJ_, he thought toward the bedroom, then shot a webline across the street to the next building.

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	2. Chapter 2: Pride

Chapter 2: Pride

"Dammit, Robbie!" J.J. Jameson banged his fist on the top of his desk. The papers he had been perusing scattered everywhere. "The circulation numbers are down again this week!" Jameson nearly bit through his cigar in frustration.

"I know, J.J..." Robbie let the sentence trail off. It would be the same spiel this week as the last several weeks. Numbers were down. Why? What new stories could they come up with? What scandals could they exaggerate?

Robbie knew it was Jameson's pride that prevented him from speaking aloud what they were both thinking. _No Spider-Man photos since Peter resigned._ Oh, sure, there had been headlines, articles and whatnot about the superhero, but nothing sells papers like a great photo on the cover. It was almost as if Spider-Man was deliberately avoiding being photographed by anyone at all. _Which he probably was, considering how he was treated here._

Jameson got up and started pacing the carpet behind his desk. _That's it,_ Robbie thought, _I'll bring up the unspeakable subject_.

"You know, J.J., I know for a fact that Parker is still looking for a job," he started casually.

Jameson's pacing stopped. He looked askance at Robbie as if to say, _You_ _didn't just say that..._

He took a big breath to bellow, but then the air whistled right out of him. The one person who could see through his blustering was Robbie. "I guess I should give him a call."

As Jameson headed back to his desk, Robbie added, "You know he won't come back here under the same terms as before. He's going to want a steady paycheck."

The fire came back as Jameson huffed, "That louse will take what I offer him and be happy about it!"

"And benefits..." Robbie continued.

"If he thinks I'm going to come begging on hands and knees to him, he is sorely mistaken!" He shuffled through the papers on his desk to find the Rolodex.

"J.J..." Robbie chided.

"Fine. Miss Brant!" he shouted toward the doorway.

Betty popped her head in. "Yes, Mr. Jameson?"

"Get me Peter Parker on the phone, right away!" His face looked as if he were in pain.

"Yes, sir." She popped back out.

"No need for - " Robbie started to say, pulling out his wallet.

A moment later, Betty interrupted. "Mr. Jameson, the number we have is disconnected."

"Well, get a new one! I don't care how many people you have to call!" He was turning a little redder with each word.

Robbie walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "J.J. I kept in touch with him. He gave me his new number a few weeks ago." Robbie dug in his wallet and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Do you want me to call him for you?' He held out the paper.

Snatching it, Jameson said, "No need, I'll call him myself." He pounded the digits on his phone. Once Jameson was set on a course of action, it was 'full steam ahead.'

The line rang a couple times, then a female voice answered sleepily, "Hello?"

"I'm looking for Parker. Is this his number?" Jameson asked impatiently.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry, he's out right now - Mr. Jameson?" the voice asked incredulously.

After a short pause and a grimace, he soldiered on. "Yes. Miss Watson, I presume?" Robbie made a face across the room, of what emotion, he couldn't tell. "Just tell him to call me at the _Bugle_." He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer.

* * *

Peter turned the keys to unlock the door slowly. He knew MJ had already gone to the theater for costuming and make-up. He wished he could have afforded a ticket to the opening, since he had already missed the preview performances where he could have seen it for free. MJ had been disappointed, but told him, _I'll be too nervous the first few nights, anyway. I'll get you a discounted ticket for the matinee next week._

He started to sit on the couch and turn on the television, but noticed a neon sticky note on top of the answering machine. _What's this?_ He reached over and plucked it off.

'Call Jameson at the Bugle.' She had written two question marks above and below the words.

_What the..._ Peter looked at his watch. Seven o'clock. Jameson was probably still waiting for the last stories to be called in. Shrugging, Peter picked up the receiver and dialed_. I never thought he'd want to speak to me again._ At the voice prompt, he tapped in the extension.

An imperious voice answered, "Jameson."

_God, he makes me nervous. I can wisecrack with murderers and hardened criminals, but J.J. makes my stomach queasy._ "Uh, Mr. Jameson, this is Peter Parker."

"Parker!" Jameson barked. "What took you so long to call back? Nevermind. You're coming back to work here at the _Bugle_."

"I...uh...what?" Peter stammered.

"You heard me, I expect to see you in here on Monday, first thing, portfolio in hand."

"But Mr. Jameson, I have class..."

"Don't play around with me, Parker. You want more? Fine. You can have a full-time position as photographer."

Peter was stunned. "A full-time position? Um, my college schedule, I'm not very flexible..."

"You drive a hard bargain. Okay? You want flexible time and benefits? You got it. I expect to see you Monday. You hear me, Parker?" Jameson growled.

"Sure, Mr. Jameson, see you Monday." Almost immediately, the line went dead. He couldn't believe it. _A full-time job?_ _With a flexible schedule?_ It was almost too good to be true.

_Wait'll I tell MJ. She'll be thrilled. If Mary Jane's play reviews were good, they'd both have something to celebrate about._

_On second thought, I'll save the news for a special dinner._ He looked toward the rings' hiding place again_. Maybe the time has finally come..._


	3. Chapter 3: A Reason to Celebrate

**A/N: Thanks to my faithful readers and reviewers of this story. I am trying to return the favor for those of you currently publishing. Sorry this took longer than the other updates. Life gets in the way, and I wanted to get this chapter just right...(I hope I succeeded)**

Chapter 3: A Reason to Celebrate

"_...especially newcomer Mary Jane Watson in her turn as Jean._ _Watson impressed audiences with her off-Broadway work in _The Importance of Being Earnest _earlier this year. In this production, she shows that she can play modern-day comedic heroines as deftly,_" Peter read from the theater section of the newspaper. "Wow, that's great, MJ! You must be so excited!"

She had been sitting on the edge of the kitchen chair, a happy and bemused smile on her face. "Yes, most of the cast stayed up, waiting to read the first reviews in the early edition. I've hardly been able to sleep."

He gave her a kiss. "I knew you'd be wonderful. You always are. I can't wait to see the show next week."

"I can't believe I actually made the review...two and a half whole sentences!" She gazed dreamily out the window.

Peter pulled his chair around next to hers. "You are worth more than a few sentences. Someday they'll be writing whole books about you." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Tell you what. Let's celebrate. Which days are you off this week?"

She thought a moment. "We are going to run Wednesday to Sunday, so Monday or Tuesday I have free. What should we do?"

"This deserves someplace special. How about that new French restaurant, _La Petite Maison_? I could meet you there at eight on Monday," he offered hopefully.

She startled a little. "Isn't that place a little...expensive...for us right now?"

He smiled a secretive smile. "I have some news, too. You know that call from Mr. Jameson?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, in all my excitement over the review, I completely forgot about it! What did he want?"

"You'll never believe it, but he offered me a full-time job at the _Bugle_. With benefits. And I can set my own hours, too."

"He did? The big man asked you to come back? I never thought I'd see the day J. Jonah Jameson would swallow his pride." She chuckled.

"He didn't come out and say it, but I think they're having a hard time selling papers with no pictures of Spider-Man." And he winked as he said, " And no one else can get photos of Spider-Man like Peter Parker can."

* * *

Peter was dressed in his nicest, okay, only suit. He fidgeted at the table as he waited for Mary Jane to arrive. She would be shocked to see him here before her.

His first day back at the _Bugle_ had gone pretty well, considering his history there. Betty and Robbie were happy to see him, but some of the others in the office kept giving him sidelong glances and whispering behind his back.

Jameson seemed to be in denial that he had ever left. In J.J.'s mind, that ugly little incident (his stealing of his son's fiancée and subsequent resignation) never happened. Or at least, was of no consequence to a true businessman.

He had a few assignments for the week, and had standing orders to be on the lookout for Spider-Man. _I wonder how few times I can 'manage' to catch Spider-Man, and still keep him happy?_ Peter mused.

He glanced at his watch. 8:10. Mary Jane still hadn't arrived. _I hope nothing has happened. She probably doesn't expect me to be here yet,_ he thought ruefully. The ring box was starting to burn a hole in his pocket. A flash of red hair caught his eye. MJ was talking to the maitre d' about their reservation. He calmly gestured toward Peter at the table. She turned, surprised, then broke into a wide smile.

As she approached the table, Peter was struck again at how beautiful she was. The fabric of her dress draped over her curves perfectly. The way her hair shone, the way she walked... _You are one lucky man, Peter._

"Hey, Tiger." She bent to give him a kiss. "This is a nice surprise." As she sat across from him, she added, "I'm sorry I was late. You were on time?"

"I was early," he stated proudly. "And it has been a quiet day, too," he amended.

"The city is smiling on us, then. I get you all to myself tonight." She picked up the water glass and held it aloft. "To the best super-hero photographer in New York."

He followed suit. "To the rising star of the Broadway stage."

"To our future," she added, and clinked her glass with his.

_To our future together,_ Peter added silently. They drank, but Peter made a face. "It doesn't feel right to toast over water."

"Then let's get something more festive. We _are_ legal now, you know." Mary Jane waved a waiter over to the table. "A bottle of the house white, please."

"Certainly, miss." As the waiter walked away, Peter wondered how much even the house wine would cost in a place like this. _Oh, stop worrying. We're supposed to be celebrating tonight!_

They soon ordered, nothing too fancy. After the meals arrived, they were talking and laughing as if they hadn't a care in the world. A couple at a table nearby had been glancing over at them all night, whispering to each other. Peter's spider-sense wasn't going off, but he couldn't help but wonder what they found so interesting.

Finally, after some nudging, the husband came over to their table. Peter and MJ stopped talking and looked up questioningly. The man cleared his throat and began, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but my wife and I have been arguing about this all evening..."

_What is this about?_ He seemed harmless enough, but Peter was wary of everyone these days_. Had they been in the subway car?_

"Uh, well, my wife thinks she recognizes you," he was still not looking directly at either of them. _Oh, no, here it comes. I hope he keeps his voice down..._

He turned his gaze on Mary Jane. "Are you Mary Jane Watson?"

Peter was startled, Mary Jane flattered. "Yes, I am." She nodded and smiled over at the man's wife.

The woman shot her husband a vindicated look. He continued, "We loved your work in _The Importance of Being Earnest_, but you were even better this weekend. Could we get an autograph?"

He handed over a scrap of paper and a pen. She signed it with a flourish. "Thank you for the compliment. I hope you tell your friends about the show."

"Oh, we have been. Anyway, thanks for your time. Good luck!" They shook hands, and he returned to his table.

Mary Jane was brimming with excitement. "Wow," she said in a hushed tone. "I've had my share of autograph seekers after the shows, but none outside the theater."

"You are a wonderful actress, MJ. This is going to start happening all the time, I bet." He smiled at her, but then his face took on a worried cast.

"What's wrong?" She touched his hand.

"Oh, nothing. For a minute there, I thought it was _me_ they recognized, You know, the subway incident..."

"If no one has come forward in over three months, you can be pretty sure they are keeping quiet out of gratitude. If anyone ever approaches you, surely they would be more careful," she reassured him.

The busboy came by the table to collect their plates. "May I take these for you?"

Now that the table was clear, and they were down to the last half of the bottle of wine, Peter poured each of them another glass. "Mary Jane, I have been wanting to ask you something for a long time now."

"What, Peter?" She looked curious and a little excited. _Has she guessed?_

He stood up from the table, and came around to take her hand. "Mary Jane..."

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the restaurant. Their glasses and bottle toppled over, spilling everywhere. Several patrons cried out in shock and horror. Peter turned toward the sound. The blast had come from outside, down the block. _This wasn't directed at me - no wonder I didn't sense it in time. But people are probably hurt._ "MJ, I should..."

"Go. Go! I'll take care of everything here." She gestured toward the bill and the wreckage of their table. When she turned back, he was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4: An Itch

Chapter 4: An Itch

_I thought things were finally beginning to turn around,_ Peter thought as he shot another web-line. He was moving as fast as he could toward another fire, the fourth this week. The other night, the night he was going to propose, a gas main had exploded in a nearby building. By the time he was finished rescuing people in the upper floors and making sure no one was crushed by parts of the crumbling structure, it was too late to do anything but crawl into bed.

Mary Jane had already been asleep. As he changed for bed, he saw her dress draped across a chair. He felt a sharp pang of regret. _Would all their important moments be interrupted?_

He had the same thought as he hurried toward the fire. His suit and tie were in a web pack behind him. It was 6:30 in the evening. Mary Jane's show started at 8 o'clock tonight. He knew she would understand if he didn't show, but he was determined not to be an empty seat this time.

He arrived just ahead of the first fire trucks. People were gathering in the street, worriedly looking up toward the top of the building. He alighted on the sidewalk near a couple with their two kids. "Is everyone out?"

"Spider-Man! I don't think so. There is an elderly couple down the hall from us, and I don't see them down here." The man looked back up toward the smoke pouring out of the windows.

"Which floor?"

Their little boy answered, "Twelve. Please help them, Spider-Man. They are so nice. The lady always gives me candy when I visit."

"You got it, sport." He leaped into the air, snagging a web-line on the ledge. As he sped up the side of the building he heard the boy say to his older sister, "Told you he was real, Ashley!"

Peter looked for an open window. Most of the windows on this side were closed. He didn't have time to get to the other side, every second was precious in a fire. He looked for soot around the window closest to him. He didn't want to get caught in a flashover, no matter how quickly he healed. It looked safe enough. Anchoring himself to the wall, he pushed off powerfully with his legs. He crashed through the window, feet first, somersaulted to a stop and looked around. He was lucky, the fire hadn't reached this side yet.

He could search every apartment on this floor, but it was faster to use his spider-sense. The feeling of danger was coming most powerfully from the other side of the hall. He sprinted out of the room, turned right out of instinct, and came to a stop in front of the last door.

Peter forced through the locked door with his shoulder, scanning the room quickly. No one. His attention turned to the bedroom door. He skirted the furniture, just beginning to catch fire, and dashed into the bedroom. His eyes met a surreal scene. The couple were seemingly taking a nap, a normal event, but flames were licking at their bedroom window. Why hadn't the heat awakened them?

Praying he wasn't too late, that they hadn't already succumbed to asphyxiation or smoke inhalation, he checked their breathing. It was shallow, but there in both of them. _Thank God_.

He first lifted the wife onto his back in a fireman's carry. It would be too dangerous to go out the bedroom window. He rapidly made his way to the other side of the building, to the window he had broken out. The fire had still not traveled to the other side. He tried to clear the frame of any jagged edges, then stuck his head out the window. He was greeted with the sight of a firefighter climbing a mechanical ladder just below.

"Hey! There's another one inside! Can you reach her?" The firefighter waved to his comrades below to move the ladder closer to Peter. He held out his arms, and took her carefully.

"Is she all right?"

"She is unconscious, but still breathing. I'm going back for the husband." By the time he got back to the man's side, the flames had entered the room. Scooping him up, he rushed out of the apartment. Suddenly, the man stirred, coughing violently. "Mary," he croaked.

"Don't worry, she's outside. You'll see her soon," Peter reassured him. They made it to the window. By this time, this side of the hallway was going up in flames as well. "Hold on tight, sir," he cautioned, as he launched himself and his passenger into the air. A fresh web-line attached to a lamppost, and they swung down to the waiting ambulance.

Mary was being loaded on a stretcher, oxygen mask in place. "That's his wife," Peter explained to the paramedic, who waved the man inside.

"Thanks, Spider-Man. It must have been pretty hot up there." He pointed toward the side of Peter's mask. Peter felt the side of his head.. Part of the mask had burned away. Only now could he smell his singed hair.

He shrugged. "Well, you know what they say. 'Some like it hot,'" he quipped. More seriously, he added, "Take care of them, okay?" He was strongly reminded of his Aunt May. She lived on the tenth floor. If there was a fire in her building, would she make it out in time?

"Of course," the paramedic replied, shutting the doors. The ambulance sped away.

_Time to be going myself._ Peter jumped up, swinging toward the other side of town.

* * *

Peter handed his ticket to the usher. Miraculously, his clothes had not been ruined like his mask. However, there was a strong ozone smell on him, which he hoped would dissipate soon. The usher wrinkled his nose a little as he took the ticket. Peter smiled sheepishly.

Peter walked up the stairs to the balcony. It would have been nice to have an orchestra seat, but even this ticket had been a stretch to buy. His first paycheck was still a week away. He found his seat, murmuring apologies to the people he climbed over. He felt as if all eyes were on him. The lights were starting to dim, and the pit orchestra ceased tuning up.

The woman next to him gave him an irritated look. "Sorry, you know, second-hand smoke," he explained.

"Hmph," was her only response.

As the orchestra played the overture, Peter scanned the audience. He was feeling something like a psychic 'itch' on the back of his neck. It was the feeling someone was staring at him. He turned right and left, but couldn't see anything out of place. Then the curtain rose on the first act, and he pushed the feeling to the back of his mind.

At intermission, the feeling returned more intensely. He stood up quickly, taking in the crowd around him. People were stretching and discussing the play, making their way toward the aisles. _The feeling seems to be coming from the other side of the balcony, but fading._ He pushed his way through the other patrons, to a few remarks of "Watch out!" and "How rude."

He found himself at the top of the stairs, looking down at the wave of people heading for the refreshment stands. _It's heading that direction,_ he thought, and he followed the crowd downstairs.

He glanced over the lobby area, searching for the source of his feeling. He couldn't pinpoint it exactly, so he started to walk across the room. A quickening of his spider-sense caused him to turn around just as a hand was about to settle on his shoulder.

"Harry!" Peter cried out, looking into the face of his one-time best friend.

Harry's hand recoiled in surprise at Peter's sudden movement. "Pete. Were you looking for me? I guess the rumors that you have some sort of sixth sense are true, then." He smiled an odd smile. "After all, you couldn't have known I'd be here."

"I didn't know. I had a strong feeling I was being watched, and followed it." Peter tilted his head, trying to read Harry's mood. He didn't seem angry, or unbalanced. In the three months since he and Mary Jane had exchanged words at the café, had he come to terms with Peter's identity?

But then, why had he not returned any of Peter's calls? And why did Peter still sense something not quite right about his friend?

Harry's eyes squinted as he looked at the side of Peter's head. He pointed at the singed hair. "Bad haircut, buddy?" he joked.

"There was a fire this afternoon," Peter shrugged.

"MJ is fabulous in this, Pete." Harry changed the subject from Peter's other life. "You must be proud. She is finally coming into her own as an actress. I'm sure some of it is thanks to you." His words and tone sounded sincere.

"She'd be wonderful, with or without me, you know that. But her happiness _is_ very important to me, believe it." But there were more important things to discuss. "Harry, you know I've been trying to get a hold of you to finish our conversation. If you wouldn't talk to me before, why now?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, just been busy. The company's been trying to get back on its feet. I somehow convinced the board of directors to let me stay involved, even after the Octavius fiasco." His voice lowered. "By the way, thank you for not revealing my part in the near-destruction of New York City." He nodded his thanks.

"And you have kept my secret quiet as well. Thank _you_."

"What are friends for?" Harry placed a hand on Peter's arm.

"I'm surprised you still think of me as a friend after what happened with your father, Harry."

"Well, let's just say that I had more than one revelation that night…" he began cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Peter started to ask, but then _Bing-Bong!_ The end-of-intermission bell sounded. People around them were heading back to their seats. They became separated by the flow of the crowd.

Harry called over the noise, "I know who my father really was, Peter. And I understand why you did it."

Peter tried to follow him, but there were too many people between them. He could only read Harry's lips, which he thought formed the words, 'He was insane.' Harry turned and climbed the stairs, no longer fighting the press of people. Peter did the same, slipping through the doors just as the usher was shutting them.

He hurried back to his seat. He had no idea where Harry was sitting. It was as if he had just disappeared.

Sitting down as the Entr'acte began, his head swam in amazement. _Harry knows?_ That could explain, more than anything, why he had kept quiet about Peter. _If anyone finds out about Norman, Oscorp will be ruined. They might recover from the failed collaboration with Octavius, but not this._

Perhaps he and Harry could really patch things up. If Harry knew about the Green Goblin, then his promise to Norman was null and void. He could explain what really happened. A smile slowly grew on his features, and he relaxed into his seat, just as the curtain rose on the second act.

* * *

Harry could only half-watch the second act of the play. He had revealed he knew his father's identity to Peter. The look of shock mixed with relief on Peter's face had been priceless.

_Good, he believes you forgive him,_ his father's voice whispered in his head. _Now he will learn what it's like to be betrayed by a friend._

Harry had spent every night of the last few months arguing with the ghost of his father. He was hanging onto sanity by a thread.

_Now is the perfect time to take up my mantle, my boy. Now, when he least expects it,_ the voice coaxed.

_No!_ Harry told the voice. _It will be _my _way, or no way at all. I will _not _become a freak like you, like Pete._

_You protest, but you know the only way you can defeat him is with my help._

Harry focused his eyes on the back of Peter's head. _There are other ways to trap a spider, father…_


	5. Chapter 5: A Great Shot

Chapter 5: A Great Shot

Andy Vogel flipped through his latest batch of shots. He had the usual pictures of TV starlets having lunch..._flip, flip..._soap opera actresses shopping..._flip, flip..._Broadway premiere shots..._flip, flip..._

He sighed. Nothing really interesting here. Another wasted roll of film.

He was having an off-year. He used to sell photos to papers at least every couple of weeks. Sometimes he would get a great one, that would set him up for a while. _Remember when you were the first to get a picture of the then-current Ms. It and her new baby?_ He hadn't needed to work for months.

Lately, he was lucky if he sold one every couple of months. It was a good thing he owned all his camera equipment free and clear...

He went back through the photos again. He had captured a few famous faces. _Not her_, _she has two kids by different guys, but that's old news. And him? Everyone's knows he's a drinker and gambler and nobody cares anymore..._

He needed something new and fresh, something unique. A smiling red-head caught his eye in one of the photos. He had been focusing on her co-stars at the premiere, and she wasn't the center of the photo. _What a knockout. Who is she?_

He grabbed his stack of newspapers and sifted through them to find the review of the show. His finger tracked down the page and stopped on a name. "Mary Jane Watson." So this wasn't her first show. No boyfriend on her arm in the photo, maybe she wasn't attached.

_Wait a minute... he reached for his file folder of interesting information he'd picked up about the New York City_ _social scene. Her name was ringing a bell, but he couldn't figure out why._

Shaking his head at each article he had clipped, he stopped at one particular item. _Runaway Bride?_ _Jameson wedding fiasco._ Aha, this was the girl that dumped J.J.'s son! All the talk had long since blown over. Jameson had buried the story as soon as possible. _Don't blame him, I'd be embarrassed, too._

Seems like he could remember whispers about Watson leaving the astronaut for another guy. Well, whoever he was, there was no sign of him at this premiere.

He filed her in the back of his mind to check out later. He needed to find something juicy to photograph, not some fresh-faced nobody, no matter how beautiful.

* * *

Mary Jane sat eating lunch with her friend Louise. She had come backstage last night to say hi. They both wanted to catch up, so they decided to meet at one of their favorite haunts from when they acted in _The Importance of Being Earnest_ together. The restaurant had a nice outdoor area, shady and pleasant.

"Like I was saying before, Mary Jane, you are twice as good in this play as you were in _Earnest_. Are you studying with someone?"

"No, no. Maybe the part just fits me better," she sipped at her iced tea.

"Or is your personal life enhancing your acting skills?" Louise inquired slyly.

"Maybe," Mary Jane blushed.

"You were so cryptic at the wedding. I guess everything worked out, then. I've never even _met_ the guy..."

"Well, his work keeps him really busy. This week we've hardly seen each other. But the reunions are so much more fun," she hinted.

"How serious is it between you two?"

"Well, we've been living together for the last three months..."

"Living together?" Louise interrupted. "Whoa, that is _so_ not the way you were with John."

"Well, there was no passion between me and John. It was more like a friendship. That's why I had to call it off."

"Do you think the two of you will ever get married?"

"I hope so. In fact, I could have sworn he was going to ask me the other day, but then he was...um...called away."

"What, is he a doctor or something?"

"No, it's complicated -" Her cell phone went off in her purse. _Saved by the bell._ "Sorry, just a second. Hello?"

_"MJ - are you busy?"_ Peter sounded like he was out on a crowded street.

"I'm having lunch with Louise, you know, my friend from _Earnest_." Mary Jane pointed toward the phone and mouthed the words, 'It's him.' Louise nodded, and took a bite of her sandwich.

_"Oh, I was hoping to spend a little time with you. We keep missing each other."_ Peter sounded disappointed.

"Me too. We've both been so busy." MJ was just as disappointed. "How long until you have to be back to work?"

_"Oh, I have several hours until my next assignment, and my classes are over for the day. And as for the city, it's: 'All quiet on the Western front.'"_ The noise from the street sounded more distant now. Had he taken to the air?

"You could meet me after lunch - we're at _Uno's_." MJ raised her eyebrows at Louise, hoping to get an okay. Louise gave her a thumbs-up, and kept chewing.

_"Okay, great, I'll meet you there, when? In a half-hour?"_ He sounded eager to see her.

"That sounds great. Louise will get to meet you, finally. See you in a half-hour. Love you."

_"Love you, too."_ He hung up.

Louise swallowed and looked at her watch. "Oh, damn. A half-hour? I forgot the time. I need to be back at work in 20 minutes. You know, temp job. No extended lunches for me."

"I wanted you to meet him, too. Oh well, maybe next time."

"If not, there's always the wedding," Louise winked. "Can I wear the same dress, or do I have to buy a new one?"

Mary Jane laughed and slapped at her hand. It was always fun to be with Louise. They were going to have to do this more often.

Peter came up the sidewalk next to _Uno's_ and saw Mary Jane standing at the entrance. _No Louise? Hmm._

He nodded at her formally. "Good afternoon, miss."

She chimed right in, with "Good afternoon, sir."

He tipped an imaginary hat, and walked past, straight around the corner, into the alley.

Mary Jane stopped, nonplussed for a moment, then decided to follow. When she turned the corner, she was whisked off her feet, and soon was flying through the air.

"Well, sir," she gasped breathily, "you have some nerve." But the tone of her voice belied the way she held tightly to him. She nestled into his neck as they headed for home.

* * *

_I could sure use a slice, _Andy thought, as he headed down the street. _It's lunchtime, and I've pounded the pavement too long today already._

He hadn't had any luck with his recent batch of photos, just as he had suspected. He saw a little pizzeria with a shady outdoor area, and went inside.

It was a nice day. Summer was ending. The weather was finally starting to turn cooler. Might as well enjoy it.

After ordering, he did his usual people watching. He always kept a camera with him. You never knew what might be worth some money. As he glanced around, his eyes fell on a couple of young women eating lunch. _Wait a second, it's that actress, Mary Kate something or other..._ This was too much of a coincidence. He reached down and grabbed his portfolio. Flipping through to find that shot, he checked it against the woman sitting a few tables away. _Yep, that's definitely her._ He looked at his notes in the file. _Oh, Mary _Jane _Watson, that was it._

If she had been a big name, taking a photo now might be worth something. But otherwise... She was talking into a cell phone, while her friend was finishing her meal. They were both pretty cute, he had to admit.

He kept his eyes moving, always on the lookout for a great photo, as he ate. He noticed when the friend hugged Watson goodbye, and paid her part of the tab. Watson hung around a few more minutes, then went to stand, purse in hand, at the entrance. _Waiting for someone?_

He wiped his mouth, took out some cash, and laid it on the table. _Time to get back to work._ As he walked out of the restaurant, he saw Watson suddenly turn the corner of the building, into the alley nearby. He continued, almost passing the alley himself, when _whoosh!_ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a streak of red and blue sailing into the air.

He fumbled for his camera. _Crap! A chance at getting a shot of Spider-Man, and I'm not ready!_ By the time he pointed the telephoto lens at the sky, Spider-Man was gone. He cursed himself silently. Then he stopped short. Hadn't Watson just gone into that alley? He looked around. The alley ended in a dead-end. There was nothing but a dumpster and a service door to the restaurant. The actress was nowhere to be found.

He put two and two together and got... _Spider-Man's... girlfriend?_ Now _that_ would be worth something!

It was time to do some research, maybe call up some old friends...


	6. Chapter 6: Gotta Make A Living

Chapter 6: Gotta Make a Living

_God, what a week._ It felt as if the whole universe was conspiring against him. Once he had decided to propose, every good moment to do so was filled with rescues, or assignments, or...

Perching on the side of a building, he put his head in his hands. _Screw it, the city can wait._ He launched himself into the air, swinging toward home. He hadn't spent any quality time with Mary Jane since their lunch 'date' a week ago.

It didn't take him long to arrive at the balcony. His spider-sense tingled a little, but he deliberately ignored it. Alighting on the rail, he looked through the windows. MJ had probably only been home from her show a half-hour, so she was probably not yet asleep. A light was on in the bedroom. _Wonderful, she is still up._ He stepped over to the window, gave a tug, and... locked. Sheepishly, he tapped on the windowpane. MJ came out of the bathroom, dressed in shorts and a nightshirt with slender straps.

She smiled, unlocked the window, and gestured inside. As his feet touched the floor, she wrapped him in a hug. "I've missed you this week," she murmured, tugging his mask off and bringing his head down for a kiss. When the kiss ended, she continued, "Are you too tired, or would you be interested...?"

His lips traveled down the line of her jaw to her neck. "You read my mind..."

Andy set up his tripod exactly, adjusting the camera so that it pointed toward the bedroom window. He had found a great location on the roof across the street. The edge of the wall was crenellated so that he could shoot through the indentation, yet still hide himself from view.

It hadn't been difficult to find her building. He staked out the theater and followed her cab home. He hadn't been able to follow her into the building, because the main door locked behind her. He couldn't very well buzz every apartment to find hers. Besides, he didn't even know what her voice sounded like. Then he noticed the nameplates over each button. One read: _Watson_ (in type), then _Parker_ (written underneath in pen). _Bingo._

He waited until the next morning, dressed in a delivery-style outfit, and buzzed the apartment. A female voice came over the intercom. _"Yes?"_

He picked a nameplate at random. "I have a package for Johnson."

_"I'm sorry, you have the wrong apartment."_

"This isn't Apartment 103?"

_"No, this is Apartment_ _506."_

"Oh, sorry, thanks for your help."

_"No problem."_

Once he had the apartment number, he knew she was on the fifth floor. It wouldn't be too hard to figure out which one was hers. She kept late hours as an actress. Just wait for her to come home and see which lights came on.

After watching her the next night, he knew hers faced the street. And what luck - the building across the street had a roof at just the right height.

As he was waiting for Watson to come home for the night, he wondered just who "Parker" was. Her roommate? Her live-in boyfriend? (He could be Spider-Man... If not, would _he_ be in for a shock.) He was pretty sure she wasn't married yet, not so soon after ditching Jameson. But he had never seen anyone else enter or exit the building with her. And he had certainly not seen anyone through the windows other than the girl.

He made sure his good camera was loaded correctly, and took a few focusing shots. He then checked his backup camera. Both seemed ready to go. Just a waiting game, now.

A few minutes later, Watson's cab pulled up to the entrance. She paid the fare, unlocked the door, and went inside. The lights went on in her place soon after. She appeared in the bedroom, and began to shed her clothes. He knew he was being a voyeur, but hell! This was one of the few perks of his job.

Unfortunately, before it got too interesting, she went into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Steam began to filter into the bedroom, effectively blocking his view of her.

Faster than he could register, that red and blue blur from the other day landed on the balcony. He lifted his camera and took his first shot. _Click._ Spider-Man tapped on the window. Watson came to the window to let him in. _Click._ They embraced and she _removed his mask! Damn, this was going to set him up for life! Click._ He only had a view of the back of Spider-Man's head. They began kissing. _Click._ _Come on, turn a little to the side..._ It was hard to tell in this light, he thought the guy had black or brown hair, could have been a dark blond...

They moved to the bed, but Spider-Man's back was still to him. He laid her down, pulling the straps down on the nightshirt. _Click._ Suddenly, a gust of wind got him off-balance, and the camera crashed to the bricks by his feet. _No time to check it now._ He quickly grabbed the other camera, and lifted it... to find he was face to face with the Wall Crawler himself.

* * *

Peter kissed Mary Jane all along the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, Instinctively, they moved toward the bed. He hadn't bothered to remove his costume yet. Besides, she liked to do that. But the buzzing in his mind was _not_ going away. _Leave me alone!_ he thought at the world. _Can't a guy enjoy a few minutes with his girl?_ He set her gently on the bed, and began to pull her nightshirt down. Breaking contact with her lips, he reached to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

In the sudden dark, his spider-sense screamed at him. It was as if the danger were right on him. In what seemed like slow motion, he turned, realized the focus of the sensation was across the street... "MJ! Close the curtains, now!" He flew out of the window, then leaped across the street to land on the face of the building opposite. The man there lifted his camera, and looked up at him with a 'deer in the headlights' sort of look.

* * *

"You know, the guy who usually takes my picture asks my permission first." Spider-Man shot out a strand of webbing and yanked the camera out of Andy's hands.

Andy stood gaping. He was so stunned he couldn't get any words out. He had never been 'caught in the act' before.

Spider-Man popped the back of the camera, removed the film, and tucked it in the waistband of his costume. He made as if to toss the camera to the street, but instead webbed it in a small sac, and tossed it back. "I know a guy's gotta make a living." His tone quickly changed. "Leave Miss Watson alone. Get my drift?"

Andy finally found his voice. "A... Are you threatening me?"

"Hey, don'tcha read the papers? I'm a menace!" Spider-Man swung away down the street.

Andy looked at the sticky mess in his hands, then down at his feet. The other camera was still there. If the fall hadn't damaged it... Andy turned toward the direction Spider-Man had gone, and smiled. _You're right, Spider-Man. A guy's gotta make a living..._


	7. Chapter 7: Walking Among Us

**A/N: In my original author's note to this story, I wrote that I didn't know the comics continuity. Since then, I have read all of the Straczynski ASM issues - I swear I didn't know he was using the same idea of a tabloid photo during the issues this summer (2005)! It wasn't the main point of the plot, like this one, but still...**

Chapter 7: Walking Among Us

_SPIDER-LOVER! She traded one fly-boy for another!_

Peter stood still as a statue, tabloid in hand. Under that headline was a photo of him and MJ, kissing on the bed. His face wasn't visible, but Mary Jane's was perfectly clear. He shook off his inertia and flipped to the cover story inside. There, plain as day, was a series of pictures. Spider-Man perched on balcony. Spider-Man climbing in window beside Mary Jane. Mask-less Spider-Man kissing MJ. The two of the them on the bed. _Oh my God, he must have had another camera. It's a good thing I was thinking clearly enough to replace my mask._

"Hey, buddy, this ain't a library." The newsstand vendor snapped his fingers and held out an empty palm.

"Oh, sorry," he managed, and fumbled out 50 cents.

Peter walked along, reading, hardly noticing where he was going. Little clips of sentences jumped out at him: _...saved by Spider-Man three times in the last three years... ...left astronaut at the altar... seems to be human in appearance..._

His cell phone vibrated in his suit-coat pocket. "Hello?" he croaked out.

_"Peter, the news this morning, did you see? It's all over the TV. That guy you caught nosing around--"_ Her voice was trembling.

"Must have had another camera, I know. I'm looking at the photos right now." He heard a buzz in the background.

_"Who could that be? Just a minute... Yes?"_ MJ talked to the intercom.

_"Miss Watson?_ New York Weekly. _I have a few questions for you."_ Through the phone, it sounded like there was a lot of noise behind the voice.

Her voice hardened. _"No comment." _She clicked off. He could hear her open a window. _"Oh no, Peter, there's a crowd of reporters and several film crews gathering outside!"_ The window slammed. _"What are we going to do!"_

"MJ, don't worry. I'll think of something. Stay inside. Don't answer the buzzer, door or phone. Keep the curtains drawn. I'll call you on your cell when I get things worked out."

As he snapped the flip phone closed, he had to fight the urge to crush it in his hand. Who could he ask for help? Who had the resources to deal with this sort of thing? A realization stole over him, _there's only one person..._

* * *

He couldn't escape it on the news. He flipped to a local channel.

"...standing in front of the apartment of Mary Jane Watson, the model and actress featured in the shocking photos published today. So far, Ms. Watson has declined to comment. But the question on everyone's mind is - who is Spider-Man? Since he first appeared on the scene, he has rarely been photographed or videotaped. In an interesting coincidence, the editor of _The Daily Bugle, _the newspaper that regularly publishes photographs of the superhero, has a history with Watson."

Cut to a video clip of Jameson in the middle of a tirade: "...a man-eater! She's been through a series of other men before Spider-Man, including my son, the hero, an astronaut. That menace will probably get dropped like a--"

Cut back to reporter: "Others have recently spotted the couple together as well..."

Cut to a clip of a middle-aged couple: "Yes, we saw her with someone at a restaurant a few weeks ago. I didn't pay any attention to the guy with her, it was _her _autograph we wanted," the wife was saying. The husband added, "It could have been the guy in the photo..."

He flipped to another channel.

"We have men and women, police officers, fire fighters, paramedics, risking their lives every day. They deserve and receive our respect. But if one of them goes bad, there are consequences. They are arrested, tried in our legal system.

"But this man, this 'Spider-Man,' he lives outside the law. He hides behind a mask, behind anonymity. He has been wanted for questioning by the police for years. Now that we know he is human in appearance, he could be walking among us, your co-worker, your next door neighbor.

"Where is the accountability?"

Again, he flipped the channel, this time to a 24-hour news network.

"...Welcome back. We're talking today with a panel of survivors; people who have had dangerous encounters with Spider-Man..."

"He rescued us!" a woman cut in.

The female moderator turned to the woman who had spoken. "Go on..."

"My friend and I were almost mugged. He came along and webbed the guys up. Who knows what could have happened if he hadn't showed up?"

Others on the panel nodded, except for a few, who looked like they had been on the receiving end of Spider-Man's justice. One distinguished-looking man, however, was very still.

"Mr. Roundtree, you have been very quiet. You were on the subway train that almost crashed, isn't that right?"

"That is correct."

"There have been rumors that passengers in the forward car may have seen Spider-Man without his mask. Can you verify that these photos are authentic?"

He drew himself up. "Madam. You should know that I only agreed to appear on this program to help defend Spider-Man to the public. Whether these photos are accurate or not is beside the point. This man is a _good_ man - he risks his life every day for New Yorkers. Isn't he allowed to have a private life? Doesn't he deserve that--"

_Rrriiinnnggg!_ The sound of the phone distracted Harry from the television. He ignored it and after a few rings, it stopped. The door to the study opened, and Bernard stepped in.

"Mr. Osborn, sir, it's Mr. Parker again. Shall I tell him you're busy?"

"No, no, Bernard, this time I'll take the call." Harry got up from the armchair, and went over to take the phone from the cradle. Punching the 'Talk' button, he said, "Pete - are you okay? Are you safe?"

Peter sounded frustrated, angry and helpless, all at the same time. _"I guess you've heard. I'm okay. It's MJ I'm worried about. She's holed up in our apartment, refusing to talk to anyone."_

"Why don't you just 'swing in there' and get her out?"

_"And give them more fodder for their cameras? Right now, all they have is that scuzzball's word. If I show up as Spider-Man, the whole world will know it's true."_ He let out an exasperated sigh. _"And if I go as Peter, they'll either assume I'm the one under the costume, or the poor cheated-on schlub of a boyfriend. Either way, they will mob us. The less they see of either face, the better. And I'm not just worried about the press. What about the criminals who might want revenge?"_

Harry consoled him, "Pete, you'll figure a way out of this. You always do, if the stories are true."

Peter's voice dropped to a low moan. _"It's all my fault, Harry. I had the feeling something wasn't right, and I ignored it. I ignored it because every time I want to spend time with MJ, something happens, and I have to take off. It's a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' life I lead, Harry. I'm so tired of it..."_

"Look, Pete, what can I do to help? Anything, name it."

Peter sounded relieved. _"Actually, I was thinking - if you sent a car for her, you could bring her to the mansion. It would be impossible for you to be Spider-Man, not after the events of the World Unity Festival and Octavius' failed experiment..."_

"Where several witnesses saw both of us at the same time, I know." Jokingly he said, "You know, it was supposed to be impossible for Spider-Man's _photographer_ to be Spider-Man, too."

_"Heh._ _You also have a security team that could keep people away from her."_

"Done, and done, buddy. Why don't you come over here before I send the car? You know they'll follow us over here."

_"You don't mind being 'under siege' for us?"_

"I can handle it, Pete. MJ's safety is more important."

"Then I'll be over right away - and I'll take a cab."

"See you soon." Peter ended the call.

_Well,_ Harry thought_, sometimes fate smiles on us. The spider has gotten caught in his own web. I thought I would have to wait much longer for Peter to ask for my help._

_There are faster ways to get revenge, my son, _the voice suggested.

_Patience, father._ _He mustn't know who sealed his fate until the very end..._


	8. Chapter 8: Appearances and Suspicions

Chapter 8: Appearances and Suspicions

Mary Jane tried to keep busy, puttering around the apartment. For the first hour or so, she kept the TV on, deciding what she would say to people. But finally, the talking heads had grated on her so much that she switched it off.

She had long since turned off the ringer on the phone, and turned the volume on the answering machine all the way down. She could still hear it click on and off, though.

Passing by it, she noticed the LCD display. The number had risen to almost 30 messages. Maybe it would be best to simply turn it off altogether.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang. _Peter!_ She quickly walked over to the table, and flipped open the phone. The caller ID display showed Louise's name. _I don't think I'm ready to talk to anyone but Peter right now, not even my friends._

She held the phone in her hand, looking down at the display until the ring-tone ended. Within a minute, the message icon appeared. She placed the phone on the table, then went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Halfway there, she stopped, and turned back around, curiosity getting the best of her.

She dialed the voice mail number, entered her code, and waited. _"Mary Jane!_ _I just heard the news. Is it true? You sly dog! 'He was called away...'"_ She laughed. "That's _the understatement of the century. Now I wish I had played hooky that afternoon, so I could have met him! Anyway, call me later. Bye, MJ!"_

_Thank Goodness I didn't pick up. Peter and I need to get our stories straight._

The phone rang again in her hand. This time Peter's name came up. She pressed the green button quickly. "Peter! Where are you?"

_"I'm at Harry's. He's going to send a car for you in a few minutes. Do you have time to pack a bag?"_

She had been so happy to hear that Harry and Peter were friends again. What would they have done if Harry wasn't on their side now? "I can pack quickly. But won't they just follow me over?"

_"We're sure they will, but the mansion has gates and security guards. It will be a lot harder for them to get through to you there. The driver will call you at this number when he is outside."_ Peter's brave tone changed to one of remorse_. "I'm so sorry that I got you into this, MJ. I kept you away from me before in fear of things exactly like this."_

Mary Jane's voice was resolute. "Peter Parker. I told you I would face these things _with_ you. That is not going to change just because we hit our first bump in the road."

_"I love you, MJ."_

"I love you, too. See you in a little while." She ended the call, and set the phone down. _Time to get down to business,_ she thought as she walked to the hall closet. She opened the door. Pulling the suitcase from behind the coats, she wondered, _Should I let my understudy go on for me tonight? No,_ she decided, _the producers are probably thrilled at the publicity. _She chuckled to herself. _If the public wants to see 'Spider-Man's girlfriend,' let them pay for a ticket._

* * *

Peter nervously rode the elevator to the _Bugle_'s floor. He had to check in at work today, no matter how awful things were right now. The longer he stayed away, the more suspicious people would become. Best to act like the hurt and confused boyfriend, the ineffectual nerd they all assumed he was.

Earlier, he, Harry and MJ had spent an hour going over scenarios of how to get them in and out of the mansion. As expected, the media crowd had set up camp in front of the gates. Even as they spoke, the news reporters on television were busy positing theories about why Mary Jane Watson had moved to the Osborn mansion. Harry had the suggestion that they use a few cars as decoys whenever anyone left the grounds. The fact that the cars all had mirrored windows made it easier to create a distraction. So, if Harry had to go to a meeting, Peter to work, or MJ to the theater, there would always be three cars to chase down.

As of yet, no one knew that Peter was staying at the mansion as well. He hoped to keep it that way as long as possible. Someone from the _Bugle_ would eventually talk about his relationship with MJ and he would be tracked down. But he wasn't going to make it easy for them.

When his car dropped him off, a few television vans had been following them. He purposely directed the driver to stop in a crowded area. It was easy for him to blend in, and then drop out of sight.

_Ding!_ The elevator doors opened at his floor. He swallowed, took a deep breath, then walked into the newsroom. As people noticed him, conversation fell silent. He searched for a friendly face, and when his eyes fell on Robbie, he headed toward him. By the time he came within 10 feet of Robbie, the room was totally quiet, save for the sound of telephones ringing. _Show time_, Peter thought, and tripped over his own feet so gracelessly, that the portfolio he had been carrying slipped from his hands. The photos inside spilled all over the floor.

A few snickers rang out in the silence, and whispers of conversation started back up. Robbie crouched down to help him clean up. "Peter!" he exclaimed, a little louder than necessary. "How are you holding up? I really didn't expect to see you in here for a few days." He gathered photos to hand back to Peter, then lowered his voice. "And how is Mary Jane holding up?"

_Well, I'm not fooling Robbie, that's for sure. But we'd better keep up the act - people are still watching._ "She's better, now that Harry Osborn is helping out."

"That's right, the three of you have been friends since high school, haven't you?" He helped Peter up from the floor, and they walked over to Peter's desk. The curious stares followed them, but it looked like his clumsy act had convinced everyone he was no more than he seemed. He sat down in his chair, and Robbie perched on the side of his desk.

Robbie spoke even more quietly. "It's all they could talk about today. How some schmo scooped you with photos of the Webslinger, and one of your girlfriend cheating on you at that!" He cocked his head and added, "Are they real?"

_How can I answer that without confirming his suspicions? "_Well, I don't..." his sentence trailed off as he saw Jameson step out of his office, talking to someone. _It's him!_ Peter quickly turned his attention to the photos on his desk.

Robbie did a double-take - looking from Peter, to the guy with Jameson, back to Peter. Then Jameson noticed Peter's presence, and strode over, cigar puffing. "Parker! I'm not the sort of guy to say I told you so, but -- well, hell! Yes, I am! You're better off without her anyway." He gestured without looking to the guy behind him. "Hey, Vogel, come over here. Parker might be able to give you a few tips on catching Spider-Man again."

Peter tried to appear as if he had never seen the guy before, even though inside he was seething. The slimebag held out his hand. "Andy, Andy Vogel, nice to meet ya."

There was no recognition in Andy's eyes when they shook hands. "Peter Parker."

Jameson continued blithely, "Yeah, Parker here is the latest to get his heart trampled on by Watson."

A light went on in Vogel's eyes. "_Parker._ Were you two living together?"

When Parker answered, he looked down and a little anger seemed to heat his voice. "Yes, for a few months now."

Andy sized up Parker. So this was the photographer who could get those exclusive pictures of Spider-Man? Didn't look like much. Young. Short, slight build. Clothes that didn't fit. Hair badly in need of a trim. What had a bombshell like Watson seen in him? _Unless..._ Yeah, he was the right coloring, maybe the right height...

"Musta been a shock, seeing those pictures."

Peter was fidgeting with a cup of pens and pencils, and started at Andy's words. The cup went flying across the desk. "Sorry, I'm having a terrible day, as you all know." Parker bent down at the same time as Andy to pick up the mess. Their heads bumped, and Parker landed on his rear, on the floor.

_This little wall-flower, a superhero?_ _Hah._ He could hardly believe the guy had the coordination to use a camera.

"Well, would you like to see her get what's coming to her?" Andy suggested.

Parker looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, with your experience, and my expertise in catching folks unawares, we could finally catch the Wall-Crawler with his pants down, if you get my meaning."

"Clearly," Parker sputtered.

He patted Parker on the shoulder and tossed a card on his desk. "Give me a call, we'll work out a plan. Gotta go."

Peter watched Vogel leave the newsroom, barely controlling himself. He hoped that little display had convinced everyone he was the victim in this whole affair. Jameson seemed convinced, anyway. "Parker, if the two of you pull that off, don't forget who writes your paychecks! The _Bugle_ will have exclusive rights!" He stalked back toward his office, continuing to mutter to himself.

Peter looked up at Robbie's face helplessly. _Robbie has seen right through me, I know it._ But if he had, he was enough of a friend to pretend otherwise. "Hey, you know I'm here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on." Then he added, with a piercing look. "Or an ear to listen."

Peter watched him walk away to his own desk. If Robbie guessed as much as he let on, then he was a true friend for keeping it to himself. _But it's safer for him to have suspicions than the truth._

Now for the more pressing problem. How was he going to get Vogel off his back?


	9. Chapter 9: Indignation

Chapter 9: Indignation

"I'll meet you in 45 minutes. See you then," Peter spoke into his cell phone. He flipped it closed. "It's done." He punctuated the air with Vogel's business card, then placed it on the desk. "He makes my skin crawl - and that's not easy. But if it will help us get out of this..."

"I know it will. This way you have your eye on him, and you'll be able to learn what he really knows," Mary Jane spoke from the sofa. A beam of dusty sunlight made her hair shine in the afternoon light.

Peter walked over to the partially curtained windows, and drew them fully closed. There hadn't been any news helicopters about today, but no sense taking chances. He didn't feel as if he could trust his spider-sense anymore. Ever since he had first seen the photos, his senses had been tingling non-stop. He walked toward Mary Jane on the sofa. "I guess you're ready for the press conference."

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Peter came to sit beside her.

"Yes, we are," she said firmly. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were absolutely right in keeping your alter-ego a secret from all of us. Every time a new person finds out, there are an exponential number of things that could go wrong. Imagine if the whole world found out," she said, then realized Peter had probably pondered this a thousand times.

"Exactly." Peter gave her a brave smile. "I wish I could be by your side instead of Harry. It bothers me that you have to face them without me."

"I'm an actress, Tiger. I face an audience almost every night. I'll be fine." She kissed him on the cheek.

"What would I do without you?" He returned the kiss, this time, on the lips. Without thinking, they deepened the kiss, leaning into the arm of the sofa. "Wait," he managed around kisses, "isn't this what got us into trouble in the first place?"

MJ chuckled deep in her throat, and kept kissing him. Peter suddenly felt a greater stirring of his spider-sense that told him someone was about to enter the room. He glanced up to see Harry. For an instant, he thought he saw the slightest look of disgust. But it quickly changed to a smile of greeting. _Am I imagining it? Or am I hyper-sensitive to everything right now?_

"Pete, the driver is waiting. Good luck with Vogel."

He got up from the sofa. "Thanks. Break a leg, you two." Peter bent down to kiss MJ goodbye, then left the room, shaking his head to clear it. _Damned buzzing._ _Too bad they don't make a pill for it,_ he thought ruefully.

* * *

Andy walked along the street with Parker. They were heading for a section of town where crime had sharply spiked. When Spider-Man had arrived to help, he had become an almost unperceivable blur. _Covering his ass, I'll bet. We'll just have to be that much sharper._

He broached the subject he'd been dying to ask. "Tell me, Parker. How is it that you have been able to get so many photos of Spider-Man in the last three years?"

"Well, just lucky, I guess. He always trusted me. He knew that I would always try to photograph him in a positive light."

Andy snorted, "Fat lot of good that did you, huh?" He went on, "Do you have any guesses about who he is? I mean, you were around him so much. How did you know how to find him?"

Peter demurred, "I have no idea who he is. He always found me. I wish I _did_ know. It would make this assignment much easier."

They started to pass an electronics store, with a wall of televisions for sale in the windows. Mary Jane Watson's face was prominent on each screen. "Hey, wait a minute. Looks like Watson is giving an interview. Let's go in."

Parker shrugged and followed. _Man, _Andy thought contemptuously, _he is such a doormat. If my girl was running around on me, I'd grow a pair and _do _something about it, no matter who the guy was._

As they walked in, the sound from the screens started to filter through. "...I said before, a total hoax. Spider-Man has never been in my apartment. The photos are obviously fabricated."

"What..." Andy stalked toward the screen in shock. _That lying hussy!_ "She can't be serious!"

Harry Osborn stepped up to the microphone. "Ms. Watson and I have been friends since high school. When she asked for my help to get away from the incessant questions, I was glad to oblige." He looked out at the assembled reporters. "We will now take a few questions."

"You and Ms. Watson were an item once, isn't that right?" a strident female voice asked.

"That's right. Over two years ago, in fact."

"The fact that she ran to you first is very suspicious. Are _you_ Spider-Man?" The crowd at the press conference started to murmur.

"Don't be ridiculous. There are several credible witnesses that have seen us in the same place at the same time. I wouldn't be standing here today if he hadn't saved me from falling debris during Otto Octavius' failed fusion experiment. Next question."

"Ms. Watson. If this is a hoax, why do you think _you_ are being targeted?" a deep male voice asked this time.

Watson took Osborn's place. "I can only think that someone is trying to discredit Spider-Man. You know, if you have listened to the news chatter, that he has saved my life three times. Someone must have noticed this and decided to take advantage of it."

The screen crawl at the bottom was now stating: _Spider-Man Photos: A Hoax?_ Andy wanted to spit. He turned to Parker. "A hoax? I have the proof that it isn't!"

Without waiting to see if he was being followed, Andy took off for the street. "Taxi!" he shouted, waving his palm.

"What are you going to do?" Parker appeared beside him.

"I'm heading over to Osborn's. You can come with me, or not, if seeing her will be too painful."

"No, I'll come." A taxi had stopped in front of them, and they climbed in. Andy gave directions, still fuming. _How dare they imply he wasn't a total professional!_

Peter gave him a keen look. "How will you prove the photos are real?"

"I'll show them my original negatives. Watson and Osborn won't be able to claim that I digitally altered the photos. I never use a computer in my work."

"Never?" Parker seemed surprised.

"Too many bozos playing with Photoshop these days. I only use real film, and I develop the photos myself. Most of the stuff I take is too sensitive for some random photo lab to get a hold of." Andy harrumphed in indignation.

It only took them about 10 minutes to arrive at the scene. He looked over toward the podium where the press conference had been held. _Damn! They're already gone._ He tossed the fare at the driver, and jumped out of the cab, almost before it had stopped.

He and Parker stood looking at the unmanned microphone. "Lost my chance to confront her. But I am not going to take this sitting down. Where's that CNN van?"

Parker pointed toward a van heading down a side street. "Is that it?"

"Crap!" The media were starting to disperse, now that the show was over. He would have to give them a call - if he could get the right person to listen to him.

The sound of sirens rang out behind them. As the police cars passed, Andy barely noticed. Parker turned to him. "Andy, I have another assignment to get to. Can I call you later?"

"Sure, sure..." He was still steaming, staring at the space Watson and Osborn had just occupied. Well, maybe with Parker to back him up he could get an interview. "Hey, Parker, wait - "

He looked around. The guy was totally gone. How had he gotten a cab so quickly?

"Vogel!" He turned to see his friend, Steve Brooks, who worked as a cameraman for a local station, heading toward him.

"Hey, Brooks! You hear that load of garbage?" He gestured toward the microphone. Someone from another TV crew was dismantling it.

"You in the know?" His eyebrows rose.

"In the know? I took the damn pictures! Fabricated, my ass."

"You did, huh? Well, you were always great at getting shocking photos. I see you got a spy already on the inside." He nodded toward the mansion looming in front of them.

"A what?" Andy didn't know what he meant.

"Yeah, that guy that was with you. He's one of the workers being escorted in and out, we think. They've been using several cars with employees as decoys to distract from Watson and Osborn's comings and goings. Our van was lucky, or should I say, unlucky enough to pick his car to follow yesterday."

Andy's voice got faint. "Uh, yeah, on the inside..."

"Oh, hey, great to see you. Crew's cleaned up and ready to go." He waved and turned back to his van.

_Parker._ _On the inside. I'm being played... _His cell vibrated in his pocket.

* * *

"Mr. Vogel?"

An irritated voice answered. _"Yeah, who is it? Your number's blocked."_

He dropped his voice to a lower level. "Someone with something you'll want to hear."

_"I'll decide that. What do you want?"_

"I take it you saw the press conference this afternoon."

_"Sheesh._ _If you have my number, you gotta know they were lying up one side and down the other."_

"Indeed. What do you plan to do about it?"

_"I'm taking my photos to a big network. Let them check them out themselves."_ The resentment showed in his tone.

"What if I could give you the big story you almost had? Spider-Man's identity."

The shock was palpable across the line. _"How... Why would you give me that? If you know his identity, why not go public with it yourself?"_

"Spider-Man knows some things about me that I would rather not be made public. If he knew I blew his cover, he would almost certainly expose me in return."

_"How many people know? If I told, he'd have to figure one of you told me."_

"That's why you must make the connection yourself. If you figure it out, he won't suspect me at all."

_"How am I going to do that, buddy?"_

"You've met Peter Parker?"

_"Yeah, and I just started thinking he's involved in this whole thing."_

"Oh, he is, and in it deep. Spider-Man and he have always worked together, and this situation is no different."

_"Was he just a decoy boyfriend or something?"_

"Something like that. Here's the key, Andy. Listen well."

_"I'm listening."_

"The key to finding Spider-Man is to put Peter Parker in danger. Do that, and Spider-Man will show up. I guarantee it." He disconnected the call.

Harry set the business card back down on the desk.


	10. Chapter 10: No Choice

Chapter 10: No Choice

Shadows zigzagged across the moonlit sidewalk. Peter felt more in his element than he had in days. _Only problem, I'm not dressed for the occasion,_ he joked to himself. At night, wearing street clothes seemed somehow inappropriate.

He trailed after Vogel, who was strangely silent tonight. He had been positively chatty up until the time of the press conference. At least, Peter was fairly certain he hadn't been in touch with any of the big networks yet with the negatives.

The silence was disturbing, coupled with an even greater sense that Vogel meant him - Spider-Man - harm. Peter had known that MJ's denial would make Vogel angry. Angry enough, he hoped, to slip up. But instead of bluster and carelessness, his anger had become cold and calculating.

Peter needed to get his hands on the negatives, especially since it would be difficult to prove they were altered. But the fact that Vogel was too secretive to use a computer worked in Peter's favor. If he destroyed the negatives, the press would only have Mary Jane's word against a sleazy paparazzo. _But first I have to figure out where he keeps them..._

They were slowly heading for a seedier part of town. Vogel had explained that if they were lucky enough to see a crime in progress, they might also catch Spider-Man in the act. Peter had gone along with it, agreeing it might be a good idea. Anything to keep tabs on him before he turned the negatives over.

It worried Peter that he had had to leave Vogel earlier, even if it had only been an hour and a half. When he called Vogel up afterward, the photographer had suggested this outing in a overly friendly voice. His spider-sense had flared sharply at the time. Peter chalked it up to renewed malice toward Spider-Man.

Vogel was certainly intent as he stalked along the street, eyes searching the dark skies. He looked suddenly toward the side of a building. "Parker!" he rasped, motioning Peter toward him, "I think I saw him swing past."

Of course he hadn't, but Peter played along. "Really?" he whispered back.

"Yeah. Follow me." Vogel turned a corner onto a dark street. The street lamp halfway down the block was on the fritz. It flickered briefly on, then off again.

They walked carefully, looking every direction, when, out of nowhere, a man stepped from the shadows. "Stop right there." He lifted a gun, and pointed it at the two of them. "If you two gentlemen would kindly hand over your wallets, I'll let you live."

At the man's appearance, Peter tensed, ready for a fight. But weirdly enough, he felt no sense of danger from the mugger. _Maybe the gun isn't loaded. He's just bluffing his way through this._

Peter tried civility. "We don't have anything of value. I only have a couple dollars in my wallet." He started to walk slowly toward the mugger. If he could disarm him, no one would need to get hurt.

"Yeah, buddy, we don't have anything but a couple cameras," Andy added.

Peter shot Vogel an annoyed look. He amended, "And cheap ones at that." Peter stepped ever closer.

The mugger waved his pistol at him. "Don't take another step. I will shoot you!"

There was still no sense of danger. The streetlamp flared again, and the man's face was illuminated. The look Peter saw there was not malice, not fear, it was more like... nervousness. "You wouldn't really use that," Peter soothed.

It would have been ten times quicker to knock the guy out, disarm him, and web him up for the police to find, but Vogel's presence complicated everything. The would-be criminal started to back up, toward the corner of a building.

He suddenly stopped, and the gun dropped from nerveless fingers. A voice drawled from the shadows, "If you're not gonna do it, let me help." The butt of a gun cracked against their mugger's temple, and he slumped noiselessly to the ground.

Around the corner came a much larger man, full of menace. _This guy means business._ The new threat bent down calmly to take the gun, and pocketed it in his trousers. Watching Peter and Vogel, he removed the other mugger's wallet, watch and cell phone.

He flipped the wallet open, glanced at it, then pocketed it as well. "A little careless to be caught with ID. But he's obviously not cut out for this." He confidently pointed his own pistol at the two of them, and said, "Now, let's continue where he left off."

Vogel's voice was markedly different this time. "We told the guy we don't have anything!" Peter nodded.

"Oh, I think I overheard something about cameras at least. Hand over the wallets and cameras, before I take them from you the hard way."

Peter started to empty his pockets. _I can ditch Vogel after we get out of this, and retrieve our stuff._ Vogel started to do the same. They tossed their wallets down, and carefully set the cameras on the sidewalk. The mugger looked at Vogel and said with a touch of sarcasm, "Everything, man." He gestured to the camera bag over Vogel's shoulder.

He tried to bargain, a little desperately. "I already gave you the camera. This is nothing but an empty bag."

_Why is he protecting the bag so desperately?_ "Andy, just hand it over, he's pointing a gun at us!" Peter insisted in his best frightened voice.

"You don't understand," Vogel began, and in a moment of decision, took off running the way they had come, clutching the bag.

Peter's head snapped around to watch Vogel pelting down the street. _What is he doing!_

The mugger's lips twisted wryly. "Bad decision, my friend." Almost contemptuously, the gunman aimed and shot. As his finger pressed the trigger, Peter leaped into action.

A normal person would have heard a shot, seen a blur, and seen two men go down. With Peter's enhanced senses, it went something like this. Peter's spider-sense spiked as he felt the mugger's intention to fire. A powerful kick knocked the gun away from his hand, but not before the bullet had already left the barrel. Peter followed that up with a punch that knocked the guy out cold.

He spun and raced to check on Vogel. _No matter how I feel about him, he is still a human life._ Vogel was lying on the street, clutching his side. Peter crouched beside him. "Andy! Are you hurt?"

Vogel's eyes fluttered, his breathing was labored. "My side… I… think I'm shot…" He winced in pain at the effort of speaking.

Peter gently moved Vogel's hands from the wound. "Let me see…" The bullet had entered his back and gone into the vulnerable part of his abdomen. There was a large amount of blood already soaking his clothing. Peter lifted the shirt and looked at the entrance wound. _I've got to stop the bleeding, or he'll die._

For a split second, not really long enough to be conscious, Peter considered his options. He could let him bleed out, and Peter's problems with the photos would end. Or he could use his powers to save him, but surely reveal his identity in the process.

_There is no choice here._ As always, the weight of his responsibility guided his actions. "Hang on, Andy. I'll get you help." He used a stream of webbing to completely cover the wound.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way…" Vogel whispered painfully. The loss of blood seemed to be making it difficult to remain conscious.

"Don't speak, Andy. We'll be on our way soon." Peter didn't want to just leave the two muggers on the ground. Either one could wake and get away before the police could arrive. He quickly checked the pulses of both men and found they were unconscious, but fine. The guns he webbed to the light pole, out of reach, then bound the two men separately with webbing as well.

Turning back to Andy, he found the other man's eyes on him, filled with agony. Was he even cognizant of what was going on?

Peter yanked his mask out of one pocket and snagged their belongings with a web from the other hand. Covering his face, he hoisted Vogel into his arms and took off for the nearest hospital.

As they were in the air, Vogel moaned once more and began, "No one was supposed to get hurt…" His head slumped to the side as he passed out.

--------------------------------------


	11. Chapter 11: Remembering

Chapter 11: Remembering

Andy opened his eyes blearily, seeing nothing but a blank wall. Correction, a blank wall with a small framed picture on it. He slowly registered other details about the room. A hospital bed, which he seemed to be occupying. An IV dripping some sort of fluid into his arm. A small table with his camera bag and possessions. A window to the outside, with a figure standing in front of it. Peter Parker, who was looking out of the blinds.

It was interesting - when Parker didn't know he was being observed, he seemed a different person. He stood alert, erect, almost like a cat ready to spring. His eyes were scanning the world outside the window with an intensity Andy had never quite seen before. _Does he really seem different, or is it only because I know now?..._

Parker, rather, Spider-Man, turned his piercing blue eyes on Andy. He didn't think he had made any sound waking up, but Parker had detected the change anyway. _What a great actor he is. He had me totally fooled before. No wonder he and Watson are together..._

Andy smiled weakly, and broke the silence. "Parker... how long have I been out?"

Parker's eyes softened, and he replied, "I guess 12 hours or so. The nurse told me you woke briefly when they first brought you to this room." Parker came to sit in the chair beside the bed. "Do you remember?"

_He could remember the pain and the disorientation. As the nurse busied herself with making him comfortable, he had tried to touch her arm. "Oh! Mr. Vogel, you're awake. Be careful not to move too much. You don't want to reopen the wound."_

_"Am I going to be okay?" he had slurred._

_"The doctors say your wound was pretty bad. They almost lost you, since you had lost a lot of blood. But they were able to operate in time. You are very lucky that Spider-Man found you. That webbing on your wound most definitely saved your life."_

_After she had left, images of the mugging and what had happened after came flooding back. I wasn't just delirious. Parker had picked him up and carried him - and not by foot. He still remembered the comforting voice behind the mask. Parker's voice..._

"I remember..." Andy hesitated. "I remember a few things."

Parker let out a breath. "I thought you might." He looked down at his hands. "I'm glad you're okay. I couldn't stop him in time - I'm sorry."

_He's sorry? I don't deserve a bit of what he did!_ "It was my own damn fault. I wanted to get back at Spider-Man so badly."

Parker looked up questioningly. "By running away?" He saw something different in Andy's face. "Oh. By setting it up."

_The guy's not dumb, that's for sure._ "I thought Spider-Man might show up if he knew you were in trouble. I didn't know at the time he was already there."

Parker got up and went back over to the window. When he began speaking, it was in a quiet voice. "All I've wanted for the past few years was a normal life. I can't escape what I am, but being with Mary Jane made me hope that I could be happy." He turned back to Andy. "I love her - I've loved her since elementary school. I want to marry her, if she'll have me."

"Parker," Andy began, but a wave from the other man's hand silenced him.

"Wait. I tried to give it up, once. But I couldn't - I have a responsibility to use this to help people. If I have to choose between that and Mary Jane..."

"Parker, listen. I may have set it all up, but it came back to bite me in the ass when that other guy showed up. You could have left me there, but you didn't. The nurse told me that I would have died if you hadn't brought me here immediately." Andy went on, "I won't tell anyone about you. For saving my life, I owe you that much."

Parker came over to the bedside again and looked directly into Andy's eyes. After a moment, he relaxed. "I believe you. I can actually feel it, you know, if someone means me harm."

"I'm a man of my word, Parker. That's why I was so upset when your girlfriend called me a liar on national TV." He smiled to show he was over it now. "Can you get my bag for me?" He gestured with his head over at the table.

Parker nodded and handed him the bag. Andy started to unzip it, but a sharp twinge from his wound made him wince. "Can you..."

Gently, he took the bag and unzipped it for Andy. The camera was inside. "Take out the camera and film. If you carefully feel the lining of the bag, you'll find a small slit in the fabric."

In a few moments, Parker was pulling a few strips of film from their hiding place. "The negatives?"

"They're yours." He grimaced a little. "I guess I can tell the papers that I lost them in the struggle. Without those, I won't be able to prove the photos are real."

Parker looked concerned. "But won't this damage your credibility? Won't it be difficult to sell photos now?"

"Buddy, if I was gonna choose between working a little harder to repair my rep, or being dead - well, you know which one I'd choose."

"Thanks, Andy." Parker smiled.

"But I wouldn't mind a photo op thrown my way every once in a while," he joked. "And look me up if you ever grant an interview." He suddenly remembered something important. "Parker?"

"Yes?" He was looking through the negatives into the overhead light.

"How many people know your secret?"

He turned his attention back to Andy. "Other than you? Only a few close friends and family. Although a train car full of people did see my face. But none of them knows my name."

"You know that thing you told me, about how you can sense harm? You might want to see if any of those 'close friends and family' have it in for you."

He looked concerned. "Why?"

"Because one of them, a guy it sounded like, called me on my cell phone the other day. He told me if I wanted to get to Spider-Man, I should put you in danger."

Parker's body tensed. "He did?"

"Yeah. When I asked him why _he_ didn't just tell people Spider-Man's identity, he claimed you know things he... how did he put it... 'would rather not be made public.' Sound like anyone you know?"

"MJ..." Parker whispered. In a blur of motion, he was gone. The blinds were rattling from his passing, and the window was open. _Wow._

The nurse picked this moment to come check on him. "Mr. Parker, visiting hours are..." She looked around the room. "Did he already leave? I didn't see him pass the nurses station."

"Yeah, a little while ago. He's pretty shy and quiet. He must have just slipped past you." He looked over at the window. "But he forgot to close that before he left. Do you mind?"

Shaking her head, she walked over to shut it. "Get some rest, Mr. Vogel. We want to see you back on your feet as soon as possible."

As she left, he closed his eyes. _Good luck, Spider-Man._

---


	12. Chapter 12: Loose Ends

Chapter 12: Loose Ends

Peter was kicking himself mentally all the way to the mansion. _How stupid could I be? I wanted to believe Harry had forgiven me so badly, that I totally ignored the buzzing in my head!_ It bothered him greatly that he had gotten himself in trouble twice in quick succession, and all because he had dismissed the warnings. _And Mary Jane has been caught in the middle both times. If Harry has touched her..._

He stopped a couple of buildings away, clinging to the edge. Clambering around the side, he peered at the mansion gates. The sun was just setting, and there didn't seem to be any news crews out today. The story was blowing over, since no one had come forward to prove the photos were real. _But better safe than sorry._ He swung quickly to the building opposite, and used his enhanced senses to feel for danger. _All clear._

Peter alighted on the balcony. Tearing off his mask, and returning to regular clothing from his makeshift web-pack, he pushed violently through the French doors.

Harry and MJ were sitting at a table talking. They both looked up at his entrance. "Peter!" MJ exclaimed.

"Hey, why didn't you call for a car, Pete?" Harry asked.

Peter didn't answer. He stalked up to Harry and grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Is this how it is always going to be between us?" he said in a menacing voice.

Mary Jane had come to stand beside him. "What is going on?"

"What are you talking about, Pete?" Harry croaked.

It seemed like such an innocent question, but the tingling had grown ever stronger since he had arrived at the mansion. His spider-sense was strongly warning him about Harry, and this time, he would _not_ ignore it. He lifted Harry into the air by his shirt, and powered him toward the wall. "Don't pretend anymore, Harry. Vogel told me about the call. Will you always send others to do your dirty work?"

Harry's expression turned from frightened confusion to malice. "Not all of us have super powers, Pete. Will you murder me like you did my father?"

Harry's words stung, and Peter released him. "I didn't kill him, Harry! He tried to run me through with the glider, and I jumped out of the way. He doomed himself!" Peter retorted.

Harry rubbed at his throat. "Or so you say. How can I trust a word you speak, when you have been lying to me for years!"

Mary Jane cut in, "What is this about? What happened with Vogel? I'm not going to stand here and watch my two best friends rip each other to shreds!"

Peter placed an arm protectively in front of her, and explained angrily, "He called Vogel to try to trap me into revealing my identity. Vogel was shot trying to get Spider-Man to show up." He turned his blast of anger fully on Harry. "Once again, you almost cost a man his life! Is your misguided revenge worth the harm you'll do to others?"

"And how many have died for the sake of _your_ 'justice?'" Harry spat. "My father, Octavius, all the innocents that got caught in the crossfire?"

"How _dare_ you compare him to those madmen!" Mary Jane exploded. "I've told you before - countless people have been saved through his actions. Imagine how many more would be dead if not for Peter! Myself included!"

He faced them with a steely gaze. "I will never forgive you. Freak. Murderer. If it weren't for the things you know..."

"Looks like we're at an impasse." Peter's tone turned even more deadly serious. "If you so much as _think_ of bothering us, Aunt May, _anyone,_ I'll find out." He started to lead MJ toward the balcony. "You won't win this war. Be sure of it!"

He lifted Mary Jane into his arms. With a final look of warning, he dropped over the edge, leaving Harry to stew alone.

Once they were far enough away, Peter brought them to the pavement. His shoulders crumpled, and a sob tore from him. MJ led him to a bus bench, just a few yards away, and put her gentle arms around him. They cried together until the moon was high in the sky.

* * *

It was good to be back home again. Mary Jane had finally listened to all the messages on their machine. Some were from friends, others family, and of course, the press. She made a point to call everyone (except the press) and check in. Most seemed embarrassed that they had believed the press for even a moment. She graciously accepted their apologies with a secret smile on her lips.

Peter was out again, but he had made an odd request earlier. _"Meet me at the Moondance for dinner tonight. You can flaunt your new success to Enrique."_

It was time to go now, actually. She gathered her jacket, purse and keys, and left the apartment. It was a short cab ride, and she was once again happily surprised to find him waiting for her. "Well, will wonders never cease," she teased.

"I amaze myself sometimes," he responded, and kissed her hello. Inside, they had a nice conversation, even if the food was a little greasy. Enrique even came over to the table and chatted politely with them. "I knew you'd be a star someday," he stated proudly as they paid their check.

"Yeah, right," Mary Jane muttered, for Peter's ears only, once they were outside. "That's why he treated me so well before."

She started to flag a taxi, but Peter lowered her arm. "Let's take a walk, MJ. It's a nice night, and I don't have anywhere to be right now."

"Sure." They headed the way she used to walk home after a day of waitressing. _That's a time in my life I certainly don't miss._ Peter slipped his hand into hers, and they strolled along the nighttime streets for a good distance, companionably silent. Suddenly, he turned a corner, pulling her along with him.

He stopped. "MJ, turn around for a minute. I have a surprise for you."

She turned around, amused. Behind her, she could hear the familiar _thwip, thwip_ sound of his webs being spun. _What is he doing?_ As she waited, she looked at the buildings around her. It looked so familiar somehow...

"Okay," his voice sounded a bit distant. "Now you can turn around." She complied.

Before her was a large web, spanning the wall below a fire escape. In the center was a note and a box. Peter had disappeared. She stepped over, and plucked the note from the center. _Look inside the box,_ the note read. Excitedly, she opened it to reveal a beautiful ring, and another note: _Will you marry me?_

Peter descended from above, upside down. "Well?" he asked aloud.

An overwhelming sense of deja vu caused her to realize their location. He had brought her to the exact spot where they'd shared their first kiss. Just as before, she placed her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him passionately. This was fantastically better than the previous time. Arousal coursed through her, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. When it ended, she touched her forehead to his and breathed heavily. "Did that answer your question?"

In one quick motion, she found his arm around her waist, and they soared to the rooftop. Setting her down gently, he took the box from her hands. He retrieved the ring inside and placed it on her finger. "Mary Jane Watson, I will love you forever."

"Me too, Tiger." She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. "Is anyone watching?" she whispered huskily.

"I can't sense anyone," he answered.

A mischievous smile played across her features. "I've always wanted to make love by moonlight. Could you, you know..."

He smiled in return, and began creating a web hammock of sorts in the corner. When it was finished, she pushed him down onto it and showed him just how much she loved him.

* * *

Harry poured himself another glass of scotch and downed it. _There is no justice for us Osborns, Harry,_ the voice chided. _We have to create our own._

"I was so close, father. If his identity had been revealed, he could have been tried and convicted for your murder. Not to mention the civil suits he'd face by the dozen."

_Yes, for him to rot in jail, penniless, among those he had helped put in jail himself would have been delicious irony._ The voice turned nasty_. But he outsmarted you, my boy, and he'll keep doing it. He'll be right: 'You won't win this.' Unless..._

Harry opened the drawer of the desk. A small lock box rested inside. He removed and unlocked it, then lifted the lid. Picking up the vial of green fluid, he turned it over in his hands. Harry set his mouth in a grim line, and made his decision.

**THE END**

**A/N: A few tidbits of this chapter I borrowed from Georgia Kennedy's fabulous _Twin Demons_. I hope you don't mind.**

**Thanks everyone for the reviews. My beta reviewer (my husband) kept telling me how maddening the end of each previous chapter has been. I hope this chapter brought some closure. But I _do_ like a story that ends with a few unanswered questions. :)**

**For the final chapter of this trilogy, please go on to "Best Wishes."**


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